A Disquieting Metamorphosis
by Northern-Southern Belle
Summary: Welcome, foolish mortals, to the Haunted Mansion. I am your host, your Ghost Host. Sequel to Memory. George sells Gracey Manor to Disney and Christine gets unpleasantly surprised. R&R!
1. Prologue

Christine and other unknown characters are mine, but everything else is Disney's.

George William Gracey looked around the mansion with satisfaction. It was October 1, 1971, and it was going to be a great day. If only Chrissy had been here to share it. He was glad he'd sold the house to the Disney company. When Chrissy finally did see it, she would love it, although it was the sort of thing that she frowned upon. He remembered the days before his death, when Chrissy had been little and they had spent all that time together. Those were the good old days, and he wanted to do everything he could in his power to re-create them.

After the opening today, Gracey Manor would be known simply as the Haunted Mansion. It was one of the highlights of Liberty Square as well as the entire Magic Kingdom. George loved his job. He was the Mansion's "Ghost Host," and he set up the entire ride, and delivered the occasional words of horror throughout it. And he wasn't the only one with a job; everyone in the mansion had gotten parts, and guests even got to glimpse at Chrissy's picture, although Leota had bewitched it so it was a bit more frightening.

But he still had to think of a part for her. He thought of this venture as a way for the once fractured Gracey family to bond and spend time together. Everyone else agreed, except his mother.

"Now George," she had said warningly when he had told her what he planned to do, "I'm not saying I know your daughter better then you do, but I know her well enough to know that when she comes home from Tara and finds out that you sold the house to amusement park people without her permission, she will not be happy."

George shrugged off his mother's warning. "Chrissy ran off to the circus when she was thirteen. She'll love being in the spotlight again."

His mother shook her head. "George, Chrissy-Lily wants a quiet afterlife and does _not _want to be put on show again. She's going to love this little surprise as much as that sweetly titled picture of her in the hallway. 'The Beautiful Hag.' George, what were you thinking?"

George locked eyes with his mother. "I was thinking that there is a line of people outside waiting to be let in so I should resume my place. Goodbye, Mother. It's showtime." George said icily, and vanished to where he wouldn't be seen.


	2. For Love Or Family

You know what's mine.

A/n- Now, we're at Tara in 2005.

It was late morning, and once again the sun was in my eyes. I groaned and buried myself deeper under the covers.

Buried. Now there's a word I don't use lightly, being a ghost and all. Michael and I had been at Tara ever since we left Jack and Melanie's wedding, and that had been years ago. So many years in fact, that I no longer bothered keeping track. But I knew it had been a lot. I knew that any day now, Michael would say that we should go back home so that I could see Mama and Daddy.

The thought filled me with prickles of unease. It wasn't because I didn't love my parents. If I didn't, they would never have come back in the first place. It was because my father and I differ somewhat in our afterlife goals and the amount of sanity we possess.

While I would prefer a nice, quiet afterlife, like the one I enjoy here at Tara, my father has been, and always will be, in love with money. He squanders dollars right and left and then thinks of new ways to get more. Needless to say, these money-making schemes are ridiculous and impractical. I shudder to think what's happened to my mansion and the people in it at the hands of my father.

Just as I shut my eyes to get back to sleep, I heard a knock on the door. I sat up and shoved my covers away just as Michael came into the room holding a rolled up paper in one hand and grinning at me mischievously. I can tell he's going to tell me something that I think is unpleasant, but that he finds amusing.

"Well Peach, if it's a nice, quiet afterlife you want, I guess we have to move someplace else."

Groaning and stretching, I take the paper from his outstretched hand. My brain is having trouble processing what is happening.

Michael letting me read the paper is something that doesn't happen very often because he is an extremely old-fashioned nineteenth century man who thinks I'll pass out if I see anything too extraordinary. The first thing I do is look at the date in the upper-right hand corner. It says June 19, 2005. We've been at Tara almost seventy years. Then, I read over the article, feeling more and more horrified with every line.

**Majestic Tara Now Top Paranormal Site**

**By Chip Davies**

**No, Scarlett O'Hara hasn't died and begun haunting, but the house that inspired the best-selling novel Gone With the Wind is reputed to have a Southern Belle of it's own. Several of Atlanta's top psychic investigators say so anyway. They also say she's not benign.**

"**Yes, there is a violent presence at Tara. I wouldn't go back there for any amount of money," says local psychic Justine Bateman. "I felt angry, threatening energy in the house."**

**The psychics claim the ghost throws things at them, and has even pushed a few down the stairs. But the tourists who come to Tara for a heaping helping of Southern charm and hospitality have a different story to tell about the ghost of Tara.**

"**She's very benign," says one guest. "I didn't feel threatened at all."**

**Guests also say that they were treated to some down-home cooking. Peach jelly on toast and pie and ice cream although the heat and water were turned off at Tara years ago. Now I want to see for myself weather Southern charm and hospitality are still in good spirit at Tara, or if the ghost has it in for me too.**

I looked up at Michael. "Lordy, if I'd have know that that peach jelly and toast would have caused a national incident, I never would have made it." Michael was still grinning so I threw the paper at him, careful to aim at his head.

After that, Michael looked at me seriously. I knew what he was going to say. I'd been waiting for it all along.

"Like I've been saying Peach, if you do want a nice, quiet afterlife, I think we should move. Perhaps to your parents' house."

As I sat there staring at him, I felt a peculiar sensation. If I had been alive, I know the blood would be gone from my face.

"Michael, you really don't know what you're asking me to do! I can't go back there just like I really can't imagine what my father's done to the house while I've been away and he's been in charge!"

But Michael's gaze was still steady and hard on mine.

"Darlin,' you _can_ go back there, and you will. Now, your Daddy promised you that he wouldn't do anything strange or weird to the house while we were gone and you should take him at his word."

I shook my head. "But Michael, you don't know my father. The man is obsessed with money! He's not a nice Southern boy like you. He'll do anything for it!"

At that, Michael's fist hit my hardwood night table, shattering the glass vase that was sitting on it. His eyes were on fire.

"And may I ask what happened to the strong, intelligent girl who told Leota that she loved her father no matter what?"

I sighed. "Michael, my family is very complicated. And I've been in charge at home for so long that sometimes, I just want to forget about it and let someone else be in charge."

He breathed deeply and took my hands in his. "Peach, I know your life was tough and you had lots of difficulties, but forgetting about them won't help anything. Now, get packed, because we're taking the next train to your parents' house weather you like it or not."

Knowing I was defeated, I watched him leave, then turned to my own drawers of clothes.

An hour and a half later, the two of us were standing by Tara's front doors bidding my granny and granddaddy goodbye when all of a sudden, Michael's older brother Jack came charging through the entrance from the other side of the room.

"Michael, where are you going?" Michael turned to face him.

"We're going to Christine's parents' house."

Jack shook his head. "You can't go with her. You and I have to try and get Greeling Terrace back from Frank Malrooney."

And in a flash, I remembered the story that Mama had told me about Michael's death. About how he'd died because of a wound he'd gotten while fighting a duel with the town poker champ about the deed to his own ancestral mansion, which his father had put in the pot to help cover a bet.

After Jack spoke, he looked at Michael and I looked at Michael too. He just stood there for a long time until he finally turned to me.

"I'm sorry Peach, but I have to help Jack get our house back. You'll manage just fine without me."

Groaning, I grabbed my ticket away from him. I understood what he needed to do. I even respected it. But I needed moral support! I narrowed my eyes at both of the Allen-Park brothers.

"Fine!" I said. "I'll go alone, but I won't like it!"


	3. Tresspassers?

Anything known is not mine.

I turned on my heel and marched out the door, not seeing anyone in the room as I left. By the time I got down the front steps, my eyes were burning and stinging, the tears behind them flowing freely. I wiped my eyes on my dress sleeve and breathed deeply, trying to make the tears stop. When I got to the street by the front of the house, I turned around to look toward the front doors again, thinking that maybe Michael had changed his mind at the last minute, and would run out to join me.

When he didn't come, I sighed, and then dematerialized to the train station that would take me home. It occurred to me that I didn't actually have to go since Michael wasn't coming, but it _had_ been a while since I'd seen Mama, and my mansion needed me. I got on the train with no trouble, and ended up sitting alone, which was both a gift and a curse. The good part was that I didn't have to worry about watching myself around strange men. Just because Michael wasn't here didn't mean that his rules about behavior didn't stick to my brain like peanut butter to a knife.

The bad part was that sitting alone meant all I could think about was the many scenarios that could be going on at home. Each image that ran through my brain was more horrible then the one before it.

After what seemed like an eternity, the train finally stopped at the station, and I got off and dematerialized home.

I landed on the grounds and my initial impression was that nothing seemed amiss. There was nothing taken out of, or added to the house. Feeling content, I walked jovially to the front doors, my two valises and two suitcases swinging on my arms. It seemed like Daddy had kept his end of the bargain and that all my worries had been for nothing.

Once inside, I saw that Mama was there to greet me. She looked wonderful and as she held out her arms to embrace me, I realized how much I had missed her.

"It's wonderful to have you back home, Chrissy-Lily," she said.

I grinned up at her. "I'm glad to be at home. It looks like the roof is still on, and it doesn't seem like anything unusual happened."

Gently, she pushed me away from herself, and for a second, I saw worry and uncertainty in her brown eyes. Then, as quickly as it had come, it melted away, and she smiled again.

"Yes honey, nothing exciting or out of the ordinary happened while you were gone. Now tell me: what did Granny and Granddaddy have to say?"

I grinned and shook my head. "They still think I'm too skinny," I informed her. "I ate enough pecan pie and peach cobbler to keep me content for years."

She laughed. "That's what they used to say to me too, but eventually they figured out that the skinniness was natural, and that it just gave them an excuse to feed me more food."

Then, she looked behind me. I knew who she was looking for. "Michael didn't come with me, Mama. He and Jack decided that now would be the best time to try and get their house back since they're both home now."

Mama rolled her eyes. "Men. What fools they are. Michael and Jack aren't going to get the house back until the final Malrooney dies. That's the long and the short of it. And from what I've heard, the final Malrooney is still a young man. He won't be dying anytime soon."

"What happens when the last Malrooney dies?" I was curious.

"Well, the stories say that after the death of the last Malrooney, Frank will disappear into the depths of hell where he belongs, and he will leave a key to where the deed is hidden."

I looked hard at my mother. "So are you saying that I was abandoned so that Michael and Jack could conduct a fruitless mission?"

She looked at me sorrowfully. "I'm afraid so darlin'."

Then, she brightened up. "Why don't you go 'round and see everyone. They've all missed you, especially your Daddy."

I nodded and Mama and I parted. I walked through each individual room. I have to admit that it was nice to see everyone, and that everyone seemed happy. Aunt Vickie was throwing another party, and when I got to the attic, there wasn't anyone there. That is, I thought there wasn't. until I heard a steady thumping that sounded like it was coming from towards the end of the attic. I proceeded to walk through, and I immediately was struck by horror and revulsion. Every few minutes, little fake heads would pop up from the bric-a-brac and scream. That had never been there before. Then, finally, I saw the most horrible thing of all: a figure standing towards the end of the attic that was supposed to resemble a woman in a bridal costume. Her dress and veil were made out of a transparent, raincoat-type material, and the hair that was attached to the headdress was snow white and stuck out at odd angles. The figure itself was green with glowing yellow eyes and it beckoned to me with a dying candle. In the chest of the figure, I located the sound of the thumping. It was supposed to be a heart, thumping in misery for all eternity.

Through my rage and shock, I couldn't help but laugh a little. What a pathetic concept. Though it was strange to find such a repulsive figure in my attic, I resolved to go back to my own room and try to forget I saw it. After all, it was probably just something my parents had picked up on their travels. It would be moved or thrown out eventually.

The weeks went by, and I noticed nothing else unusual, and I even forgot about the figure in the attic, until one day I heard voices in the foyer. They didn't sound like the voices of anyone we knew, so I put my book down and went to investigate.

There is part of a hallway above the foyer where one can stand and see without being seen themselves. I saw a group of people talking to themselves. The group was rather sizeable: An African-American man and three others I took to be his wife, son and daughter. There was another couple, an aristocratic man who reminded me so much of my father, and his female companion, and still one more, though I couldn't make them out very well. The whole group was trespassing on private property. Perhaps they didn't know. I would have to be as discreet and kind as possible. I stepped out into the hallway above so that the group could hear and see me.

"Excuse me, who are you?"

The young boy nudged his father and said "Dad, is this part of the show?"

The man patted his boy on the head. "I've never seen it before. Usually, the ride starts with the Ghost Host saying 'Welcome, foolish mortals,' and all that, but maybe they've added a pre-show."

I cleared my throat. "Excuse me," I said again. "Who are all of you?"

The man who reminded me of Daddy stepped forward. "Miss, I'm Edward Gracey, this is my wife Elizabeth, and our friends, the Evers family, Jim, Sara, Megan, and Michael."

For a moment, I forgot I was upset. Edward Gracey? The only Edward Gracey I knew of was Grandpa George's brother, my great-uncle Eddy, but he was so busy being a diplomat to foreign countries that we hardly ever saw him.

"And this," Michael said, proffering something towards me, "Is Madame Leota."

Finally, I saw the other person in the group, and I wondered how in the world she'd gotten back here. Without meaning to, I let out a scream, and tried to run away. But in my eagerness, I tripped over my skirt and fell tail over teakettle down the stairs, landing on the hardwood floor of the foyer with a loud crack.

Immediately, Edward's worried face was hovering above mine. "Miss? Are you all right? Do you need any sort of medical attention? What's your name?"

I sat up feeling dazed and woozy. Instead of looking at Edward, I looked at the face in the crystal ball that Michael held in his hands.

"Daddy fired you years ago. Why do you torment us? Why can't you just leave us be?" I began to cry, and Elizabeth and Sara both put comforting hands on my shoulders while Edward picked me up. I looked up at him, sniffling. "My name is Christine Lillian O'Malley Gracey."

Leota looked at me, then at Edward, who was looking stunned."I knew it," she told him looking grave. "I knew Leona was here."


	4. Seeing Some Of What Daddy Did

Only unknown stuff is mine.

Right after Madame Leota's shocking announcement, I calmed down enough that Edward set me down on the bottom step. Then Sara brought me a glass of water. I drank it gratefully. Finally, my mind cleared and I looked at Madame Leota steadily.

"Who's Leona?" I asked her.

The gypsy bowed her head. "Leona is my sister. We were both endowed with the ability to see the future, but somehow, she became power-hungry, and stopped using her ability for good, only for evil. She would glom on to naïve rich men and manipulate them to get their money, often killing their wives and daughters so she would not have anyone in her way."

I looked at the rest of the group as they listened, and each of them was shuddering. The Everses were looking repulsed.

I sighed. "Yes, that's right. My father was alienated from his father at a young age, and after my grandfather was murdered, my father began seeking out mediums so he could talk to his father, and they would be able to bond. He wanted it so badly that he didn't really think clearly. Leona took advantage of it, killed my mother on my third birthday, cursed me when I was six, and suffocated my stepmother when I was eight. A week after that, he finally realized how bad she was, I guess, and when I he tried to throw her out, she got mad at him and tried to trap him in her crystal ball. He hung himself soon after so that the curse would trap Leona and I would no longer be in danger from her."

Everyone looked at each other. "That sounds real nice, in a twisted sort of way." Jim muttered. "Now, about the ride, are you open now, or should we come back later?"

I looked at him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Evers, I have no idea what you're talking about. Last I checked, this was private property and not a ride at all."

He and Sara looked at each other for a few minutes, then Mr. Evers grabbed my arm gently and walked me out to the front of the house. There, I saw it. A little shield on the front gate that read **The Haunted Mansion**.

"Your house really is a ride, see? It's been here at Disney World since 1971, and it's a great ride, too. In fact, since it looks like you're open, why don't you come along with us?"

And before I could protest, Mr. Evers led me to the Foyer, and we waited. A few minutes later, my father's voice sounded in the room.

"When hinges creak in doorless chambers, and strange and frightening sounds echo through the halls. When candle lights flicker, though the air is deathly still. That is the time when ghosts are present, practicing their terror with ghoulish delight."

As the others listened to my father, I looked around the room. Noticing the picture of my father above the fireplace, I looked at it and smiled. Then, to my utmost horror, it began to change, just as it had done when I had first come back here after my death, and found out that Leona had given the place a makeover. The portrait of my father was aging, turning him from a handsome young man to a decaying corpse. Before I could cry out though, a door in the wall opened, and I was led away to see what other horrors commercialism had put in my house.

The next room we entered was the portrait room. The second we were all safely in the room, my father began speaking again.

"Welcome, foolish mortals, to the Haunted Mansion. I am your host. Your 'Ghost' host." My father chuckled. "Our tour begins here, in this gallery, where you see pictures of some of our residents as they appeared in their corruptible, mortal state. Kindly step in please, and make room for everyone. There's no turning back now."

I looked around again. Just like they had before, the pictures of Mama, Grandma Mary, Uncle Eddy, and Daniel expanded to reveal their deaths. I felt tears threatening to spill out of my eyes.

Daddy, what have you done? I asked myself. Just then, as if he were answering me, Daddy spoke more.

"Your cadaverous pallor betrays an aura of forboding, almost as if you sense a disquieting metamorphosis. Is this haunted room actually _stretching_? Or is it your imagination?

"And consider this: This chamber has no windows, and no doors. Which offers you this chilling challenge: To find a way out! Of course, there's always _my _way…"

Then, lightening flashed and I screamed. The lightening revealed my father's corpse dangling from the ceiling, and I was instantly transported to the day that I had found my father's body for real and become an orphan. It was too much. I began to cry. Jim looked at me in the dark.

"Christine, the rest of the ride isn't as freaky as this. I promise."

Once more before we left, Daddy spoke. "Oh, I didn't mean to frighten you…prematurely. The REAL chills come later. Now, as they say, look alive and we'll continue our little tour. And let's all stay together, please."

After that, we boarded little things that Jim said were called "doombuggies." They were the mansion's ride vehicle. After we boarded, Daddy came on again.

"Do not pull on the safety bar please, I will lower it for you. And hear this warning: The spirits will only materialize if you remain safely seated with your arms and legs inside."

Then, we were going. The next room we went to was a long hallway with more pictures. They were just random pictures mostly. Eventually, Daddy started giving his explanation of this hallway.

"We have several prominent ghosts that have retired here from creepy crypts all over the world. Actually, we have 999 happy haunts. But there's room for one-thousand. Any volunteers?"

As the ride went down the hall, I spotted a picture that was familiar. Underneath it, it read 'The Beautiful Hag.' It was a formal portrait of me that Aunt Vickie had had painted when the two of us went to Paris one time. As I looked, the picture aged to an old hag. That was the last straw. I leaned forward said, in a very loud voice: "Yes, there is a volunteer for the one-thousandth haunt! Me!"

And Daddy said, in quite different voice from the eerie one he had used before, "Chrissy, is that you?"

All the HM ride script dialogue is Disney's not mine.

please, please, please review after you read! It helps motivate me, and I really love my reviews an reviewers. They brighten my day!


	5. An Irrational Reaction

The second Daddy spoke, the ride stopped. The Everses were looking at each other in confusion. Jim tapped me on the shoulder.

"That's not in the normal ride script," he whispered. "What's going on?"

"There are things going on in my house that aren't really to my liking. I need to have a little talk with my father, Mr. Evers."

He looked startled. "Your father? You mean the Ghost Host is an actual ghost? I thought he was just a gimmick that Disney made up to get the ride to work."

I had to laugh a little at that. "Do you think I'm a gimmick too? Mr. Evers, this is my home. This is where I've lived for let me see-" I stopped and counted on my fingers. Three years, then the two years after therapy, another two years of therapy, then three more years here before I ran off to the circus. "-Eight years of my life, not to mention a few months and weeks of my afterlife. With the exception of that grotesque _thing_ in the attic, everyone in this house was alive at one point or another and became ghosts later."

Now everyone's mouths were open and they all looked like fish breathing underwater.

"So you're saying that everyone in this house is an actual ghost including you? You don't just work here as a member of the sideshow?" Michael asked meekly.

I shook my head yes. "And someone has some explaining to do." I dematerialized out of the Doombuggy and into the hallway. I let up the bars on the other cars so that they all could follow me back to the foyer. They got out and allowed me to lead the way.

When we arrived, I marched to the foot of the stairway and screamed.

"Daddy! Get down here please, I need to talk to you about something." And then I heard hurried footsteps. Pretty soon my father appeared at the top of the stairway and walked down the flight to meet me at the bottom. When he saw the Everses standing behind me, he paled for a second, but handled it with ease, having a smile for me when he reached me.

"Yes Chrissy, honey, what can I do for you?"

I frowned. "Daddy, don't 'Chrissy honey' me right now. I have seen with my own eyes that our house has been turned into an amusement park ride. Did I or did I not specifically request that you not do anything strange or weird to the house while I was gone at Tara?"

His gaze was on his shoes. "Yes, you did."

"And did you not assure me that when I returned home everything would be like it was when I had left?"

"Yes, I did."

"Well, Daddy, I have to say that selling our house to amusement park people counts as doing something strange or weird."

"Excuse me, Christine," Jim said before Daddy could reply, "didn't you say that he was your father?"

Daddy inclined his head. "Yes, I am her father. George Gracey, at your service."

That raised some eyebrows, but only I knew why.

I nodded. "Yes Mr. Evers, I did. What about it?"

"Well, what about the 'respecting your elders' thing?"

At that, Daddy looked up. "Christine Lillian, I had nothing but good intentions in doing this. Getting my own father back and bonding with him made me realize that I didn't give you the attention you deserved. I only did this so we could have a little bonding time. Get to know each other better. Besides, you haven't seen the rest of the house."

I opened my mouth to say that I didn't really want to see the rest of the house, but the excitement of everyone in the Evers party overrode me.

"Yes," Edward said, "let's see the rest of the house."

"Come on, Christine," Jim urged, "You've barely scratched the surface."

Seeing I was in the minority, I sighed in defeat and went with them. We got back on the ride and went through more.

I have to admit, I was charmed by the music room and the enchanted busts, but I felt dismayed in the conservatory.

"Daddy, why are you having Jamie do this when Lettie and I cured him of the habit?"

"He said that's what he wanted Chrissy. He won't do anything else."

We rode a little more. Finally, Jim said we were coming to the séance room. When I saw who the medium was, I screamed again.

"Daddy, what is she doing here? I thought you fired her!"

"We needed a spiritual medium, and she was already here, and so I felt that I needn't go to the trouble of hiring a new one."

I growled to myself as hot tears of frustration spilled out of my eyes.

When it was time for the attic, I asked Daddy what the thing was supposed to be.

He didn't want to tell me right away, but finally, he said "that is a representation of Emily. She has never come back, and we still haven't found her body.

I cried. My beautiful stepmother was a fat green blimp with wild hair. How could they do that? I wanted to smash the figure to pieces.

And still, one more surprise awaited me. Lettie, standing on a ledge, bade us goodbye.

"Hurry ba-ack. Hurry baa-ack. Be sure to bring your death certificate. If you decide to join us, make final arrangements now. We're dying to have you."

Soon after we passed under the ledge, she dropped her flowers and materialized on the ground in front of Daddy.

"Daddy, I hate this job. It's so boring. Give me another one."

Daddy snorted. "You're lucky you have a job at all. If you're so bored by it, you're fired. I've been looking for a job to give Chrissy, and with her doing the farewells, at least this place will have some Southern charm."

She growled at him and stalked away. I looked at him, flabbergasted. "Daddy, I don't support this. And even if I did, I wouldn't want Lettie's job. I'd want something that was my own."

I turned then, went to my room, and cried, trapping everyone in the house as I went. No one would leave here until some changes were made.

As I cried on my bed, I reached for the phone and dialed Greeling Terrace. Michael answered on the first ring.

"Peach, I've been meaning to call you. I think we should take a break from our relationship. Getting the house back has been really stressful, and I won't be able to see you for awhile."

I sniffled. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"Yes, but only temporarily."

I hung up and rummaged around under my bed. Finally, I found what I was looking for. A box that was filled to the brim with unopened liquor bottles. I opened one and downed it, then another, then another. Michael wasn't coming. I might never see him again. Finally, I stopped drinking and put the bottles away. Then, still crying, I ran to the séance room and looked at Leota. I ran out of the room and came back with an umbrella. Then, with all my might, I smashed her ball into pieces. Then I left.

And once I was gone, she rose from the pile of broken glass and said an incantation which gave her an ethereal body. Smiling to herself, she left the house and walked a nearby cemetery. She stopped in front of a grave that read:

**Andrew McKinnon**

**1915-1936**

**Loving son **

**RIP**

This was where Scott's spirit lay. She quickly resurrected him. He came to her and said

"Mother, where's father?"

Leota frowned. "Scott, Melanie and Ravenswood Manor are no longer available to us. Your father has been vanished. But we can still have Gracey Manor. Christine is in a delicate emotional state and will be easily manipulated. And you are going to help me."

Little Leota's ride dialogue is Disney's too.


	6. My New Boyfriend

But I wasn't aware of any of that at the time. After Michael called, I had another bottle of liquor and went to the portrait room where Grandma Mary was sitting and staring at the walls.

"Grandma," I sniffled. "Why are men so stupid?"

She looked at me, surprised. "Why do you ask?"

"Michael just called," I sobbed. "He d-doesn't want to s-s-see me anymore. I think he loves his stupid house more then he loves me! He didn't even tell me it was over in person. He did it over the phone."

Grandma looked at me severely. "Christine Lillian O'Malley Gracey, is this how I taught you to act where men were concerned?"

I wiped my nose on my sleeve. "No."

She put a hand on my shoulder. "This isn't Ancient Greece, we do not live in Ithaca, and you are not Penelope waiting for Odysseus to return home from the Trojan War."

I stopped crying and looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"One of the many myths of the Ancient Greeks was about a young hero named Odysseus. He and his wife Penelope were very much in love, but one day, he was called to war. A beautiful woman named Helen, who was the wife of the Trojan king, had been kidnapped by a young man named Paris. Paris had been promised Helen as a gift by the goddess of love Aphrodite. But, of course, she was already married. So her husband declared war and off Odysseus went. And Penelope, the ever-faithful wife, waited for him for twenty years."

Grandma snorted. "What a stupid woman. She had lots of other men vying for her hand, but did she take advantage of the opportunity? I mean, Odysseus could have been dead for all she knew!"

"Grandma, what does this have to do with me?"

"I'm saying Chrissy-Lily that you don't have to sit around here waiting an eternity for Michael. Go find another young man until Michael comes back."

I nodded. "Yes, I'll go find another guy. That will serve Michael Allen-Park right for loving his house more then me!"

And with that, I marched myself outside to walk around town and check out my prospects. There were actually a surprising amount of eligible young ghost men that I could pick from.

I walked to the mall. The mall actually had a rep as being one of the most haunted places in the whole town. I would find myself a boy with a bad rep. then all of Michael's stupid rules about manners and propriety would finally go away, and I'd be free. But, I didn't find anyone at the mall. Not that day, not the next, or not even in the months that followed.

Finally, it was Halloween, and time for me to have my fun. In Chicago, I know people read about Resurrection Mary, the pretty girl ghost who stands on the side of the road hoping to thumb a ride back home to Resurrection Cemetery and scare the stuff out of anyone that tries to pick her up. The South had a hitchhiking ghost of it's own: me. They called me Miss Christine, and apparently, I've become such a part of Southern ghostlore that I've had books and a movie written about me.

Anyway, my haunting stays pretty close to the original tale. I stand on the side of the road looking all forlorn and upset waiting for some good-looking guy to come pick me up. They always do. Then, right when we get by the gates of Tara, I get out, and they see me walk up the steps and disappear into the house. Only then do they realize that I still have their jacket or sweater or whatever it is that they've given me, and they come into the house and find it hanging on the coat rack, but of course, I'm nowhere in sight. They grab their jacket and take the time to look at my picture on the mantel right above the coat rack. Then, they go out the same way they came in, and always see me standing in front of the house. In their eagerness to catch up to me, they trip over my well-hidden little memorial. They look up, see me nearly eye-to-eye with them, and once they look, I disappear. Then, finally, they look to see what they've tripped on, and only then do they realize that they brought home a ghost.

My memorial isn't an actual grave. It's a flat little monument that happens to have a sprinkler attached to it. That's how the guys trip, and why I can't just put their stuff on my grave. And besides that, it's bad manners to let something that was loaned to you with thoughtfulness get dirty.

That Halloween, I was picked up by a guy with dark hair and green eyes. He seemed vaguely familiar to me. Something told me that this wouldn't be the usual haunting job, so we talked, and rode around. Then, to my surprise, we were back at Gracey Manor all of a sudden.

I looked up at the guy. "We were in Georgia a moment ago, how did we get here?"

He grinned at me. "Well, Christine Gracey, isn't it my job to take you home?"

"How do you know this is my home? How do you know my name?"

"We've met." He said, narrowing his eyes. "Except last time I had a body and that stupid cowboy boyfriend of yours shot me dead."

I gasped. "_Scott_?"


	7. Goodnight, Sweetheart

I shifted in the car seat. I could see him smiling at me. His teeth gleamed white in the darkness. It took awhile before I could find the courage to speak.

"What do you want? I have enough problems right now and I don't think I'm stable enough to handle another one."

He said nothing, but took my hand instead. Then, he led me outside, to the front steps. The porch light was on and its soft glow made his eyes look very green.

"Christine, I know all about your problems. I didn't come here to cause trouble. I came here to tell you that I'm sorry."

And he truly looked it too.

"Mama told me everything that's been going on in your life recently. How your Daddy sold the house to those nasty amusement park people without your permission. How he told her to make that pretty picture of you ugly to frighten people. And most of all, how that cowboy abandoned you in your hour of need."

He sounded so sympathetic that I started to cry. I put my arms around him and he embraced me and held me close. It had seemed like so long since I'd felt the love of a man that I welcomed it. Forgot everything. Michael was the past. I told myself I'd find a boy with a bad reputation to replace Michael, and after all, who had a worse reputation in my eyes then Scott?

I let him lead me inside, not noticing Lettie standing behind one of the bushes.

He led me to the library where for once the books were silent. Then he sat me down on a chair and looked into my eyes.

"Christine, would you like anything?"

I nodded, sniffling. "Mama put some peach pie in the kitchen. Would you bring me that?"

He nodded, then inspected me. "I'll bring you some wine too. It'll help calm your nerves."

He left then, to go get what I asked. My mouth watered when he brought the pie in.

"Now," he asked, holding up a knife, "how big a piece do you want? I'll cut it for you."

I shook my head. "No need for a knife or a plate, just give me the pie and the fork and I'll be fine, thank you."

His eyes bulged out of his head. "You don't really intend to eat all of it at once, do you?"

I nodded. "I'm a Southern girl. When I'm freaked out about something, I eat. Now, give me the fork!"

Shaking his head, he passed me the fork, then stared in amazement as I devoured the pie. Then, he proffered the wine bottle at me.

"How much of this do you want?"

"The whole bottle." I said matter-of-factly. Then, I took the bottle from him and emptied it. Afterwards, I felt sick. The room began to spin, and when Scott took my hand, I leaned on him for support

"Now Christine, tell me why you're so upset. This isn't such a bad afterlife."

"I don't want any of this." I managed to get out. "I hate being put on show. For once, I just want to be normal."

He led me upstairs to my room and sat me down on my bed. He embraced me again and said in a quiet voice, "what would you say Christine if I told you I could make all your problems go away?"

I felt sleepy. I lay my head on his shoulder and felt my eyes close.

"I'd say show me. Oh, and Scott? You don't need to call me Christine anymore. No one else does. Instead, call me…" I fell asleep before I could finish the sentence. Scott looked down at my unresponsive body and finished the sentence for me.

"I'll call you sweetheart. As in Goodnight Sweetheart, Goodnight." Then, he laughed.

* * *

Meanwhile, Lettie had moved from the bushes and had run to the ballroom to warn everyone else of what she suspected to be impending doom.

Looking in, she saw her father laughing with the man called Edward Gracey. Their voices were loud and she could make out every word.

"…I can't believe this! I really can't believe that you're my true uncle after all! What really happened?"

And Edward smiled. "Well, at the time of the incident, there were many people who wanted the family money, see, and the man who wanted it most was named Richard Corbett-Langley. He was under the impression that we owed it to him. He came into my room late one night and tied me up. The next day, he boarded a ship to Burma where a courier was waiting with all the money for the business that I had been conducting, along with a large portion of our family holdings. The courier was at the embassy and he had to go there to get the money. Apparently though, guerrillas broke in and blew up the place, sadly taking Richard with it."

"And what about the money?"

Edward smiled. "Oh, as for that, the money's still at home, George. At the Louisiana house. See, the police were on to Mr. Langley and sent him to Burma on a wild goose chase."

At that point, Lettie decided to butt in.

"Sorry to interrupt this little family reunion, but I think Christy's in trouble!"

**A/n- Thanks for the inspiration everyone!**

**Only unknow plot and characters are mine!**


	8. The Calm Before The Storm

At the sound of Lettie's voice, all sound in the ballroom ceased. It was, to excuse the pun, as quiet as death.

Immediately, everyone's eyes were on Lettie's small frame. "What do you mean Chrissy's in trouble?" Daddy asked her, disbelief in his voice.

Lettie nodded. "I'm serious. She's in major trouble. Apparently, Mama found out about what happened between her and Michael and now, she's trying to get Christy and Scott to fall in love."

"Excuse me," Leota said from behind George, "Who's that?" she asked, looking at Lettie a little harder then the others.

"That," said Daddy, still a little bitter, "is your niece Little Leota. Chrissy calls her Lettie."

"And who's Scott?"

"Scott is my half-brother," Lettie sighed deeply. "Daddy, if you think I'm twisted and evil, Scott's even worse. He didn't have a Christy to help him know bad from good. All he had was Mama, and she taught him everything she knew. And if Mama's using Scott for something, you know it's not good."

"Wait, wait just a minute. My sister is trying to get Christine to fall in love with my psychotic nephew? Why?"

At this, Lettie finally seemed to truly see Leota for the first time. "_Who_ are _you_?" she asked, looking at the woman who looked so much like her mother.

"I am Madame Leota." The woman responded matter-of-factly.

"No." Lettie shook her head wildly. "You can't be Madame Leota! My mother is Madame Leota. And for your information, she wants them to fall in love so that she can take advantage of Christy's fragile emotional state and have Gracey Manor herself."

The medium shook her head."Your mother is my sister Leona and a bad egg if there ever was one."

"Excuse me," Edward said, interrupting the niece-aunt reunion. "If what Lettie says is true and Chrissy really is in trouble, we should be trying to prevent disaster at all costs. I don't want to loose a niece before I've even really had a chance to know her."

Daddy nodded. "You're right. And I don't want my daughter to end up like me."

The group left the ballroom and split up, each taking a different part of the house to see if they could find me.

Finally, Edward and Elizabeth found me in my bedroom. The door was open and I was splayed across my bed, not in my covers but on top of them, and sound asleep. As the pair advanced into the room, Edward accidentally stepped on a squeaky floorboard. As he jumped back, I stirred, my eyes opening.

When I finally noticed them, I smiled groggily. "Hi. What are you guys doing in here?" I sat up and immediately, my head began to throb. I groaned. "Next time, remind me that being fat is so much better then being hung over."

Edward looked at me with concern. "Christine, are you all right?"

I shook my head. "I drank too much last night and now my head hurts." Then, Elizabeth came over and sat beside me on the bed while Edward left the room and eventually came back with Mama and Daddy. When I told them what happened, they both looked slightly disappointed, but Mama brought me some ice for my head and Daddy brought me an aspirin.

"What's the matter Chrissy-Lily?" Mama asked. "Lettie said you were in big trouble."

"Oh, it's nothing really." I shrugged. "Scott just came by to apologize last night and we spent some time together. I think I'm falling in love with him."

My parents looked at each other for a long moment, then Mama looked back at me. "What about Michael?"

"He doesn't love me anymore. If he did, he'd be here comforting me right now instead of being at stupid Greeling Terrace trying to exorcise stupid Frank Malrooney."

"And it's not just that, is it Chrissy?" Daddy said, putting his hand on my back. "It's the house too, isn't it?" I'm sorry I did it, but I thought it would allow us to have bonding time. I remember what it was like to grow up without a father and I didn't want you to end up the same way."

I managed a smile for him. "Some parts of it are really nice, especially the cemetery and the ballroom with Aunt Vickie's party in it. But can you tell me why there's that thing in the attic that's supposed to be Emily?"

He averted his eyes. "Emily never came back, Chrissy. She never did. But the men who made up the story for the house read about her in my journals and thought she would be a nice thing to stick in."

I nodded. I was feeling well enough now that I allowed Edward to lift me off my bed and place me on the floor.

"Daddy, would you do me a favor? Take me through again, please?"

And we did go through again. In the portrait chamber, I found out the truth about Uncle Eddy and in the ballroom, I even joined the party, replacing Wolfgang's melancholy piano with one of my own rousing jazz numbers. But little did I know that Scott was still around, he still had plans, and that this serenity was just the calm before the storm.

**Thanks reviewers! Only the unrecognizable stuff is mine.**


	9. Mending Fences

I went to bed that night feeling much better then I had in awhile. No troublesome thoughts interrupted my sleep, and I woke up the next morning with a tremendous feeling of well-being. When I saw my father at breakfast, he told me that the Everses had decided to stay awhile and asked me if that was all right.

I told him it was, and was actually kind of glad of it. I'd gotten fond of them. After breakfast, I left the house to take a little trip. I didn't know exactly where I wanted to go, but I couldn't believe where I ended up.

Greeling Terrace is a bit older then Tara, though both houses were in their glory days just before the civil war. It's kind of imposing when you first look at it, but after you get over the shock you can start to take in its beauty. It's painted light blue to Tara's Georgia peach. Both houses are guarded by ancient wrought-iron fences that are beautifully designed and engraved with family seals. The entrance to Greeling Terrace is peppered with Mrs. Allen-Park's azaleas and Cherokee wild roses, which she won prizes for. Leading up to the front of the house are a bunch of stone steps. The entryway to the house is very long, and the tall French doors are flanked by two tall, white columns.

The foyer is lit by a huge chandelier, and all the furniture is made of cherry wood or marble. There's even a stained-glass window above the door which is easier seen from indoors.

I'd only read about it books and magazines of course, and I'd always wondered what it would be like to be inside it. The second I entered the house though, I was immediately confronted by a tall, nefarious looking man dressed all in black. His moustache was dark and neatly trimmed, and I could see streaks of gray in his messy dark hair which looked as though it hadn't been washed for several weeks and instead, he just greased it back when he woke up in the morning.

He surveyed me for a minute with cold gray eyes before grudgingly removing his hat and bowing to me. I didn't curtsey back.

"What can I do for you, miss?"

Trying to sound much braver then I felt, I said to Frank Malrooney "I'm here to see the rightful masters of this house."

The second I said that, he soured, dropping all pretense of manners, pulled a gun out, and grabbed me by the hair.

"What can I do for you, miss?" he repeated. His breath was warm and foul on my neck and his teeth were yellow.

When I didn't say a word, he threw me down on the ground and shot at me. I screamed, but when the smoke cleared and I saw the bullet hadn't come anywhere near me, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Just then, I heard two pairs of footsteps charging towards us. Barely three minutes later, both Michael and Jack appeared, panting and drawing their own guns.

Michael didn't truly look at me at first. He thought I was just some random unfortunate who managed to stumble into Frank's path.

"It'll be all right miss," he informed me. "Frank may be vicious and foul, but he couldn't shoot a tin can five feet in front of him. He just got lucky with me."

I couldn't help grinning to myself. "I know, Mama told me." I said so that they both could hear me.

They both turned and looked at me, stunned.

"Peach, what are _you _doing here? You're supposed to be at your parents' house." Michael said, looking at me suspiciously.

I smiled at him innocently. "I just came by to tell you two things. One: you and I are through. Two: there are some very bad things going on at home, but I won't burden you with that since you have a house to save and everything."

But before I could move to go, Jack put his hand on my arm and gestured at Michael to come stand on his other side.

"Little Lily," he said, looking at me. "Michael," he said, looking at his brother, "you two are good together. Do not wreck it. Granted it is kind of my fault because I said we had to get this house matter fixed up immediately, but you two have to work together just as much as we do."

I nodded. "I guess we aren't through then. But I do have something to tell you that Mama told me when I got home. She says you won't get the house back until the last living Malrooney dies. And from what Mama says, he's still young."

Michael looked at me. "What's going on at home?"

"Oh, nothing extraordinary. Daddy sold the house to amusement park people, but I'm warming up to the idea. Oh, and here's some good news: Scott's back to keep me company while you wait for the last Malrooney to die!"

Apparently, Michael and Jack didn't have as much faith in Scott's reform as I did. They just looked at each other worriedly.

"Little Lily, I want you to go stay with Melanie, all right? I don't want you to go back home." Jack instructed. It was an order I was all too happy to obey.

But just because I wasn't home didn't mean Scott couldn't find me. He always could.

**Thanks AW!**


	10. A Belated Thought

Michael and Jack came home with me although I'm sure it was for the express purpose of making sure that I would pack like I said I would and leave immediately as promised. For some reason, Michael especially has major trust issues where I'm concerned,

After I finished packing, they hustled me out the door without even letting me say goodbye to the Everses or any of my family. I don't know why. Maybe they thought I would linger too long or something.

Anyway, we left the house without a word. Jack held one of my bags and Michael held the other. I was sandwiched between them and in that fashion, we went to Thunder Mesa and Ravenswood Manor.

When we arrived, the state of the town surprised me. On my last visit, it had been lively and busy and fun. Now, people were absent from the streets and no sound carried on the wind.

"Jack, where is everyone?"

He regarded me without seeing me. "Little Lily, Thunder Mesa is not a twenty-four hour town. Most folks need their sleep, and with it being so late at night, they're all home in their beds."

I nodded. Of course they all were in bed. I'd been at home for too long. Gracey Manor was a twenty-four/seven place. No matter what time of day or night, someone was always up.

"What about Melanie? Do you think she's asleep?"

This time, Michael answered. "No, she wouldn't be. She never slept at night. At least she never did when I visited before."

Finally, we reached the house high on the hill. Michael and Jack stood with me and waited for someone to get the door, and didn't leave until I was safely inside with Melanie watching me.

"I don't know what's gotten into those two," she said as she embraced me. "You see them one minute, and the next, they're off and you never see them again."

"They need to get their house back," I explained to her. "According to Jack, it's urgent, and after seeing the guy that took it, it's no wonder to me why they want it back so badly."

Melanie looked at me wide-eyed. "You saw him Chrissy? You saw Frank Malrooney?"

I nodded. "Yes, I saw him. He's disgusting and vile, and I don't think he's ever bathed one day in his life."

Melanie smiled a bit at that. "It should be easy to get the house back, right? All Michael has to do is beat him in another duel for the deed."

I shook my head. "Mellie, I'm afraid it's not that simple. According to my Mama, who knows everything there is to know about the whole Michael-Frank Malrooney fray, the house won't return to Allen-Park family hands until the last living member dies. And supposedly, he's still young."

Melanie's eyes were narrowed. "I can just picture him, the last living Malrooney," she said, her voice full of hate. "I bet he revels in what he has and is just as heartless as the other members of his accursed family were."

Just then, her father came into the kitchen and sat next to Melanie at the table. When he saw me, he grinned.

"Well, hello Miss Christine! We meet again."

I smiled back. "Hello Mr. Ravenswood." He still didn't look like the perfect picture of health, but he'd gained some weight and most of his color was back in his face.

"Do you want something to eat?" he asked.

Thanks to my southern upbringing, I'd never turned down a meal, although Michael had tried to curb my compulsive eating habits.

"Sure! What do you have?"

He looked around in the pantry. "There's some extra chocolate chip cookies Martha made last baking day. Would you like those with a glass of milk?"

I could feel my stomach grumble. "Yes please. And thank you."

When he came back with the milk, he placed the glass and three cookies in front of me. Smiling at him, I immediately bit into the cookies. They were delicious. Not as good as my Aunt Vickie's, but Martha Ravenswood was no slouch with an oven.

After all my dishes were cleared, Melanie led me to an upstairs room that seemed very familiar to me.

"Do you like it? No one's changed anything since they shut the hotel down."

I looked around the room contentedly. "It's perfect. Just the way I remember it."

Smiling with satisfaction, Melanie sat down on the bed and motioned for me to sit beside her.

"So Chrissy, what's been going on lately?"

I shrugged. "Nothing much. Daddy sold the house and now it's an amusement park ride. Scott's back, but now it's really him and not just some body Leona stuck him into. I know I should be scared, seeing as how he tried to exorcise me last time we were together, but I'm just not."

Melanie had the same worried expression as Michael and Jack had.

"Oh Chrissy, be careful! You never know what he'll do next! Be on your guard always."

We didn't talk about Scott for the rest of the day, and instead, explored the town and went to some theater shows. It was very enjoyable.

That night, I went to bed sufficiently exhausted. Despite it, I slept fitfully, tossing and turning in every direction, until about midmorning when I finally relaxed and fell asleep. I didn't see anything, I didn't know anything. That being said, I didn't see Scott and Leona bring me home, and it was the words of an ancient and evil spell recited in Scott's calm, soothing voice that rocked me to sleep.

When I finally did wake up, I felt strange. I couldn't speak, and I had only one thought that while not unreasonable, was somewhat belated. It was revenge.

**Thanks, AW!**


	11. The Tempest

A/n- This is an angsty chapter!

I got out of bed and paced around my room. Then, I went over to my window and shut the curtains because the sun seemed too bright and it was hurting my eyes. I got dressed next and went down to breakfast were everyone was waiting for me.

When he saw me, Daddy smiled and Uncle Edward did likewise. I didn't smile back because I hated both of them, Daddy especially. He had practically abandoned me my entire life and for some reason, he thought that two weeks in a tourist town once a year for two years would just fix everything. Well, he was wrong. Way wrong. I didn't say a word to anyone at the table, even when Mama complimented the color of my dress. She abandoned me and spent more time caring about what Daddy had thought when it was I who deserved it.

Lettie kept watching me and it seemed like she thought she knew something the others didn't. She kept searching my face for a sign of something, what exactly I couldn't tell you.

After breakfast, I went upstairs to my room and spent the rest of my day there. Mama told Prudence to bring the rest of my meals to me because I didn't look well and wasn't acting like myself. She assumed that I would get better with a few days of bed rest.

The days went by and nothing changed. I felt no need to communicate with anyone in the house. During the few times I did venture out, I heard all of them talking to each other and speculating what could be wrong with me. I heard Daddy mention sending me to Doctor Bright and for just a moment in time, I felt something in me snap. I charged out from behind my bedroom door and faced him directly.

"You want to send me to Doctor Bright? Yes, I heard. I hear what all of you say about me, talking as if I can't hear you. But of course you wouldn't care. You never have, Daddy. You don't care about me. You never listen to me. We don't talk. Whenever I have a problem, it's always 'send Chrissy to Doctor Bright.' When Lettie was born, you saw how badly I was upset, but did you ever take me in your lap and tell me everything would be all right? Did you hug me? No. You took me straight to the psychiatric ward of the city hospital and I stayed there for three years. You never said you felt bad about Mama, and by the time you came back to get me, you were remarried! What is the matter with you that you can't even deal with your own daughter's distemper? Are you afraid? Or was Leona right when she said you were a fool and didn't know how to love?"

He looked at me, stunned. Mama looked like she was about to cry, and Lettie looked concerned. Good. And without giving anyone a chance to reply, I walked away and shut my bedroom door behind me.

As I entered, I noticed Scott sitting on my bed. He was looking concerned and holding a piece of cake in one hand. He motioned for me to sit beside him on my bed. I did so and he handed me the cake. As I ate, he spoke to me.

"Sweetheart, are you all right? I heard you shouting out there.

I shook my head. "Everybody hates me. Whenever I have problems, nobody listens. They always want to pay somebody else to listen for them."

He nodded understandingly. "Just know that Mama and I are here for you and will listen any time you need us to."

Just then, I noticed Leona sitting on my bedside table.

"How do you really feel about this house being a ride?"

I thought about that a moment. "I can deal with it now, but I still don't really like it. I would want it gone, but it means so much to my father."

Scott looked surprised. "You actually want to be nice to a man who hates you and has not had a bit of regard for you a day in his life?"

I thought about that. Scott was right. Daddy didn't deserve my kindness or my pity, and he especially didn't deserve my help. Besides, this was _my_ house, not his anymore and I could do with it as I pleased.

"No, actually. I've changed my mind. Daddy doesn't deserve my kindness or my pity, and he especially doesn't deserve my help. This is my house now, not his anymore, and I'll do with it as I please."

They both looked delighted. "That's the way to stick up for yourself," Scott said, patting me gently on the back. "Now that we've got that settled, how would you like to have this whole house to yourself?"

"I'd like that very much," I answered. "And I especially want all the gruesome amusement park ride stuff out of here."

"That can be arranged," Leona assured me.

"So, when do I get to be alone?" I asked Scott.

"Pretty soon."

"How about at your mother's birthday party next week?" Leona suggested. "You could read a poem."

"How will that help me get rid of everything?"

"You'll see," Leona promised with an evil grin.

Soon after that, the two of them vanished. Then, I heard a noise and looked up to see Lettie standing by my doorframe.

"Don't do this, Christy. You'll regret it later, I mean it. Besides, this isn't you. You're under some sort of enchantment, I can tell."

"What do you know?" I scoffed at her. "I _am _going to do it, and there's nothing you or anyone in this house can do to stop me."

The rest of the week went by without incident, and when I woke up on my mother's birthday, I couldn't help but feel a bit happy.

I dressed in my prettiest pink dress with a white lace collar and overskirt, and went downstairs to breakfast.

As I sat down, I smiled at everyone.

"Well, Chrissy seems to be better today," my father remarked to the table.

"See, I was right," my mother answered. Bed rest always does a body good."

The rest of the table nodded and smiled cheerfully at me. After breakfast, we played croquet. I lost like always, but was able to laugh about it.

Lunch was all comfort foods, followed by an enormous chocolate cake. Since it was a special occasion, my father cracked open the alcohol and I had a little too much.

When we were all full, it was time for the poetry. Almost everyone had something to read, and when it was finally my turn, I got up and read the sheet I had found on my bed that morning.

"_Anger cures the soul. The raging tempest, the wild distemper, all lost in a fiery release. Broken glass shatters on broken hearts and the Phoenix weeps tears of blood. For loves lost, and hatred learned, only when the cause is vanished, will the anger end._

_La colère traite l'âme. La tempête faisante rage, la maladie sauvage, tout perdue dans un dégagement ardent. Le verre cassé se brise sur les coeurs cassés et Phoenix pleure des larmes de sang. Pour des amours perdus, et la haine apprise, seulement quand la cause est disparue, voulez l'extrémité de colère."_

After I finished, I felt tension in the air and there was only some scattered applause for my piece.

All throughout the rest of the day, I noticed something strange. The people in my house were slowly fading away. When I went to bed that night, I could barely see any to speak.

And when I woke up the next morning, with no memory of the previous day, everyone was missing. I was all alone.


	12. A Nightmare Come True

I couldn't believe there was no one home. Even when Leona vanished Mama and Daddy and Emily there was somebody around. But now, when I called out, no one answered me. I walked from room to room, calling out, hoping that someone would hear me. By the time I screamed myself hoarse, somebody answered me.

"Christy? Is that you? Are you there?" that was Lettie, obviously.

"Yes," I croaked. Finally, Lettie found me in the library. She looked at me expectantly.

"All right, go ahead and ask me."

I looked at her in disbelief. "What?"

"Ask me where everybody is. I know."

I ran over to her and clutched her eagerly. "Where is everybody?"

She smiled sadly. "You don't remember anything about yesterday, do you?"

I shook my head and she nodded to herself, as if I had confirmed something she already knew. She put her hands on my shoulders and pushed me into a chair.

"You've been acting weird all week Christy. Don't deny it. The second I saw Scott here I knew something was going to go wrong. Then, I heard from your Mama that Michael wasn't coming back. I knew Mama would use that against you and she did. She got Scott to pretend that he cared about you, you confided every insecurity you have and yesterday, they got you to read a spell at your Mama's birthday party so now everyone's gone and she and Scott basically have free reign over the whole mansion."

I felt myself go cold. "They have run of the mansion? What about the Everses and Uncle Edward and Elizabeth?"

"They're still here as well as Aunt Leota. They were inside the whole time. Only the people outside got hit with the spell."

"Is there any way to make everyone come back?"

She sighed. "I don't know Christy. I don't know."

Then, she faced me directly. "I want you to go away from here for a bit Christy. Don't go to Jack and Melanie's. Go back to Tara and do that Phantom Hitchhiker thing that you do. It will help calm you down a bit. I'll stay here and try to smooth things over."

I nodded shakily. "All right, I'll go." And I disappeared, not knowing what I was leaving behind.

* * *

When I arrived at Tara, I found a surprise waiting for me. My grandparents have an old wooden swing on the side of their house, and as I crossed to the door, I noticed a small, neatly wrapped box sitting on it. That could only mean that my mother's brothers had come to visit.

My mother has three brothers. Charlie is the oldest followed by the twins, Brent and Stuart. Mama was the baby of the family. I grabbed the box and shook it lightly to see if it was anything breakable. When I didn't hear anything alarming, I took the box into the house and sat at the kitchen table.

When Granny saw me, she smiled.

"Why, Chrissy-Lily, long time no see. Your uncles just arrived about ten minutes ago. They're out in the back having a smoke."

Then, she put her teacup down and marched to the back door, threw it open and yelled.

"Boys, Chrissy-Lily's in the kitchen with the box. Don't y'all want to come inside and see her open it?"

In less then five minutes, three sets of footsteps came running into the house.

"Sorry, Mama," Uncle Charlie said. "We didn't hear her come in." then he looked at me and a wide grin broke out across his face.

"Hey there, darlin! Will you look at you! You've grown a bit since I saw you last!"

Then, he picked me up and spun me around once. Then, he handed me off to his brothers who did the same thing.

"But I'm not too big for presents, apparently," I said, nodding at the box. They all three shook their heads.

Uncle Charlie looked a lot like Michael except for his moustache and brown eyes. Brent and Stuart were fraternal twins. Stuart looked like a green-eyed version of Mama, but Brent was a redhead and _his _green eyes were often as full of challenge as they were of light.

They looked at me expectantly and I ripped the paper off the box, and was stunned by what I saw inside. It was a silver locket that was shaped like a heart. The edges were lined with alternating red and clear stones,

When I opened it up, I found a young picture of Mama and them on one side and a picture of me and them on the other. I felt my heart swell.

"We know that's a bit late, Chrissy, seeing as your mama's back and everything, but we figured better late then never."

I looked up at them and felt the tears escape. "No, that's all right. It's wonderful."

* * *

That night, when I was sure everyone had gone to bed, I took Lettie's advice and went out to the lonely stretch of road I usually haunt on Halloween. I stuck my thumb out and waited. Despite the fact that it wasn't raining, it was chilly and I had no trouble looking helpless.

I didn't have to wait long. Pretty soon a guy in a pretty expensive car stopped to pick me up. He had a nice face, dark eyes, and curly dark hair. When he smiled, his teeth were white.

"Thanks for picking me up," I said as I got in.

"No problem." He shut my door and jogged around to the driver's seat.

"Where can I drop you off?"

"At Tara. Do you know where that is?"

He nodded. "Of course. It's right near the house I just inherited."

He drove and neither of us talked, but as we got closer to home, I began to feel strange. I looked down at my hands and saw them slowly starting to wrinkle. I looked at the side mirror and saw I was becoming an old hag just like in my picture. But it didn't stop there. It kept going and soon, I saw bone peeking out from under my rotting flesh. Finally, the boy looked over at me and screamed and screamed.

And why not? I looked awful. Just when he turned his eyes away from the road, the car skidded on a patch of ice on the road. I materialized out of the car immediately. But the boy wasn't so lucky. The car ran into a ditch and exploded into a fireball.

I threw myself down on the road and cried. I'd killed someone, and I didn't even know his name.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Mansion, Lettie was having her own problems. She was sitting on a window seat, staring out the window when she saw something distressing. A crowd of people was coming up the walk and all the ghosts were all gone!

She ran to the foyer where everyone was and hit the wall a few times to get their attention.

"All right people, we have a problem. There are people coming up the walk and all the ghosts are gone. We are still open, so we're going to have to do the best we can. Edward, I want you to be the Ghost Host, Elizabeth, you go to the Attic and be the Bride and Aunt Leota come with me and we'll call up everyone from the Louisiana place and then try and stop Mama and Scott."

"Wait a minute," Uncle Edward said.

"Yes?"

"I've never scared anyone on purpose in my life! I can't do this!"

Lettie narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes you can. All you have to do is show the people around and tell some corny jokes occasionally. It's not hard. Try it."

"All right," Uncle Edward cleared his throat. "Welcome everyone, and I hope you have a good time at the-"

"No, no, no! That's all wrong!" Mr. Evers interrupted. "The line is 'Welcome, foolish mortals, to the Haunted Mansion. I am your host. You're Ghost Host.' Then you chuckle all manically."

Uncle Edward groaned. "I don't think I can do this."

Lettie came to a decision. "Evers family, I want you to get paper and write down everything Edward is supposed to say. Then, I want you to coach him. Got it?"

They nodded. As Lettie and Leota left the room, Lettie muttered to herself, "no wonder Christy ran away to the circus after running stuff for three years. Being in charge is hard!"


	13. Ironic Serendipity

Finally, I managed to pull myself away from my tears. I took one look at the wreck that had been that poor boy's car and ran. I ran all the way home, but I didn't go in. instead, I stood there staring at the door for a few minutes, then I ran next door to Greeling Terrace, hoping and praying that someone other then Frank would answer the door and let me inside. I felt horrible to say the least. I'd never killed anyone before and had never planned on it. I was pretty sure that Michael was going to break up with me now.

He has all these ideas about right and wrong and good and bad and killing someone would definitely fall under 'bad.' He never did approve of my doing the Phantom Hitchhiker thing. In the days when we were at Tara before I came back home, he'd say I shouldn't do it because it would kill someone someday. Well, now he was officially right, and I'd pay the price, probably in the form of being sent somewhere horrible for the rest of eternity. Probably on the fateful day that the last Malrooney died and Frank was sent to his punishment, I'd go down with him.

It was too horrible to think about and it made me cold inside. I knocked hard on the door, trying to forget the sight of the boy's mangled, horribly burned and blackened body.

Finally, the door opened, although there was no one on the other side. I snuck in and managed to find an empty couch in the front sitting room. I laid down on it and slept fitfully until the first gleam of morning light shown through the windows.

When I woke up the next morning, I was surprised to find Michael standing over me.

"Peach, are you all right? I heard strange noises down here late last night. I grabbed the gun because I thought it was an intruder, but when I got to the couch, I saw it was only you. After you tell me what's on your mind, I've something to tell you."

He looked at me expectantly. I breathed deep and a little sob escaped me. "Michael, last night, I did something I'm ashamed of. Remember that Phantom Hitchhiker thing I do to amuse myself on Halloween?"

He nodded. "Do you mean the one I told you not to do because it would kill some man someday? Yes."

"Well, it did. He was such a young guy too. He said he could take me because Tara was right near the house he inherited and-"

All of a sudden, Michael's eyes lit up.

"What?" I asked him, confused.

"That was _you_?" he asked. For some reason, I could hear laughter in his voice.

"What do you mean?" I repeated. He held up the paper so I could see one of the articles on the front page. (This was the newspaper of ghosts that was a lot quicker then the normal newspaper.) It had a picture of the young man who had picked me up last night underneath the words **Allen-Park Family Curse Ended; Last Malrooney Dead.**

I felt my eyes widen and my jaw drop. "Are you saying that the guy I killed last night was the last living Malrooney?" I asked, stunned.

Michael nodded. He was practically crowing. I'd never seen him like this. "Yes, Peach! That is what I'm saying. And now that he's dead, Jack and I can get the house back! Wait until he hears!"

"You mean you aren't going to break up with me for killing somebody?"

Michael shook his head. "It was serendipity, and it couldn't have been better. Should we go home and tell your Mama?"

I shook my head, "No, first I think you should meet Ricky."

At that, all the good humor drained from Michael's face. "No, Peach. I won't."

"Too bad," I informed him. "If I have to go to Mama and Daddy's house to face my demons, you have to come with me and face yours." And before he could protest anymore, I grabbed his hand and we both materialized to the scene of last night's wreck.

It looked different now. The car and body were gone, but the boy was still there in spirit form, standing by the road, waiting for something or someone.

When he saw me, his eyes lit up. "Hi! There you are. I wondered where you were. My car got completely totaled, so we'll have to walk the rest of the way."

"Ricky," I said to him, "you died last night. You're a ghost now." He looked down at himself at my words.

"No wonder no one's tried to pick me up," he said wonderingly. Then, he looked crestfallen. "Just think, Christine: I'm twenty years old, I'm dead, and I've never even had a steady girlfriend. I've dated, but they've all come to nothing. Now what am I going to do?"

"Not to mention losing your house," Michael said helpfully. I jabbed him hard in the ribs.

"Yeah, not to mention losing my-" before he finished the sentence, his head whipped up and he saw Michael for the first time.

"You're Michael Allen-Park!" he said, stunned.

Michael nodded. "Yes I am, and if you know where the deed is hidden, I would like you to tell me now."

But Ricky was going on as if Michael hadn't spoken. "Listen, I'm sorry about what Frank did and everything. He should have let you keep the deed. Let's go back to the house and I'll help you look for it."

This time, it was Michael's turn to look stunned. "You will?"

"Yeah," Ricky said easily, "To make up for a hundred years of Malrooney family tyranny." He grinned.

"Well thank you so much," Michael returned, smiling himself.

After that, we went back to the house and began the search for the deed. It took a long time. Finally, Michael found it behind a picture of Frank in the dining room. Just as he was about to take it out, however, Ghost Frank appeared and said all the manner of uncouth, ungentlemanly things. Ricky held him off nicely.

"Frank, I'm dead. The deed belongs to Michael, and I'm giving it to him _now_."

At that moment, I expected Frank's demon's to come for him, but they didn't. Michael, Ricky and I looked at each other.

"Now that I have the deed, there's no point in hanging around here. Let's go to your house." Michael pushed Frank in front of him and put his gun at the center of Frank's back.

I nodded. This would give Michael a chance to meet the new people at my house.

When we arrived, I felt a different atmosphere in the house, and I immediately found out why the second I entered the foyer. At that point, a voice echoed around the room and my heart picked up for a minute, thinking Lettie had gotten Daddy back.

But it wasn't Daddy's voice, it was Uncle Edward's. I tracked down Lettie and asked her what was going on.

"What's a Haunted Mansion without ghosts? Uncle Edward is subbing for Daddy, and Aunt Leota and I called up everyone from the Louisiana place. You seem more like yourself."

I nodded. "I feel more like myself."

Her eyes traveled to Ricky. "Who's that?"

"That's Ricky," I told her. "He picked me up last night. Then, I turned into a real-life version of Daddy's portrait, and that made him drive off the road and die."

Lettie smiled to herself. "I thought so."

"What do you mean?"

"You see Christy, you were under one of Mama's spells again. She wanted to make you feel worse and worse about yourself. She figured by the time you killed someone, you'd be so despondent that you'd never want to come back home again."

She looked at the deed in Michael's hand. "Is that the deed to Greeling Terrace?"

Michel nodded. "Yes. Leona made Peach kill the last Malrooney."

Lettie laughed "Oh, the irony. And I have some good news, Christy. I looked up your curse in one of Mama's books and now that you're back to normal, everyone should be home anytime soon."


	14. The First Return

At Lettie's words, I smiled for what seemed like the first time in months. Then, I motioned to Michael and Ricky, and they followed me to the ballroom, where Uncle Edward, Elizabeth, and the Everses were taking a break.

When Uncle Edward saw me, he smiled, and I smiled back.

"Are you all right, Chrissy?" he asked. I looked at him for a moment, and then, I felt myself running to him. I needed to hug somebody and he was closest. He didn't resist, and didn't seem surprised, he just went with it and I liked that.

"I wasn't okay before, but I am now," I assured him. "And Lettie says that Daddy and everybody else will be coming back soon."

I saw the Everses smile at each other in relief, but Uncle Edward looked a little saddened at the prospect.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Well, Chrissy, I was just getting good at the Ghost Host bit and now I have to abandon it. It's so depressing."

Mr. Evers laughed. "And when he says 'just getting good' he means that in the truest sense."

Uncle Edward ignored him and looked at the motley crew I had brought with me.

"Seeing as I am now your temporary guardian, I don't think it would be wrong for me to inquire about the people you brought with you."

I felt something inside of me stir at his words. Why did he want to know about my friends? Was this what it felt like to have a parent who was responsible and acted like a parent?

I motioned for them to come over to us and I introduced them, Michael first.

"Uncle Edward, this is Michael Allen-Park."

Michael inclined his head in a slight bow, and said "Sir, I am in love with your niece."

Uncle Edward looked at me.

"He has the mansion next door to Mama's family house in Georgia, and if it weren't for him, this whole place would go to ruin. He keeps me sane."

Uncle Edward smiled, and Michael pulled Frank in front of him. "And this, sir, is Frank Malrooney, the reason I died in the first place." Frank said nothing, but growled and tried to bite Michael's hand. "The devil was supposed to come for him, but hasn't, so we're trying to figure out what to do with him."

Finally, I motioned for Ricky to come forward. He came somewhat shyly.

"This is Ricky. He was Frank's last living relative who I sort of killed."

Ricky nodded. "And by 'sort of' she means did kill, but it had to happen for Michael to get the house back, so I'm not bitter."

After introductions, Elizabeth said that I should go up to my room and rest. I agreed, and everyone else came with me.

A few hours later, Lettie came in. I had a question that I wanted to ask her.

"Lettie, where are Scott and Leona?"

She smiled mischievously. "I sort of manipulated the spell they cast so that they went up with it. They won't be a threat again."

I wasn't so certain. "What about when everyone else comes back?"

She kept her eyes on me, and said firmly, "they'll come back too, but they'll no longer be a threat. _Trust me._"

I nodded and she left. Once she was gone, I collapsed on my bed and wondered what she meant, and how her manipulations would affect my enemies.

I went to bed with the thoughts still on my mind, but soon forgot them as I fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, it was because someone was shaking me. After muttering for them to stop, I sat up in bed and waited for my vision to focus. When I could finally see properly, I nearly screamed for joy. Standing by my bed was someone I hadn't seen for more then eighty years in the flesh or otherwise, but she looked no different from the last time I had seen her. Okay, I admit that's wrong. The last time I saw her she was a decaying corpse dead from suffocation in a sea trunk, but now, in ghost form, she moved, and was full of life. She smiled at me shyly.

"Hello Chrissy."

I jumped off the bed and ran to her. "Emily, you're home!"

And she hugged me. "Yes, Chrissy. I'm home."


	15. Gracey Family Therapy

All throughout the day, various other family members and friends returned to the mansion as well. Mama and Daddy were overjoyed to see me and didn't blame me in the slightest for what happened.

"It really wasn't that bad," Daddy informed me. "We were in our own personal heavens, but since you weren't there, it wasn't really true and I'm glad we came back." After this, I left him to ponder that.

As I headed towards the front doors, I noticed my uncle and his party heading out the door.

"Are you leaving, Uncle Edward?" he smiled at me and lightly ruffled my hair.

"Yes, Chrissy. Your father is back. You have no need for me anymore."

"Yeah, but I can tell you what they do need," Megan said, coming up behind him. "Serious family therapy! Lettie told me the whole story, and they have got to be the most messed up people to walk the earth!" As I watched her disappear behind a wall, I began to think.

* * *

Mama scowled at Daddy and tightened her supportive grip on my shoulder. "Really, George, a therapist? She's your daughter, why couldn't you have dealt with it?" 

Daddy's eyes widened. "For God's sake, Lillian, she was screaming like a banshee! What was I supposed to do?"

"Well for starters, Daddy, you could have told her everything was all right! I'm surprised she never hated me!"

I groaned and rubbed my hands against my temples. They'd been going on like this ever since we'd arrived, and it was giving me a headache. I turned around and faced them.

"Will y'all be _quiet_? There will be plenty of time to vent when we see Doctor Bright, but for now can we just behave like civilized human beings?"

They shut up immediately, and I allowed myself a deep breath. Finally, Rita called us.

"Christine, Doctor Bright will see you and your family now, in the calm room."

I knew where the calm room was because it had been where Doctor Bright had treated me all the times I'd been there.

The calm room was painted in light blue and had paintings of the ocean on every wall. The lights were always dim and nothing except classical music was ever played in the room. When we arrived, I knocked on the door and was greeted rather enthusiastically by Dr. Bright who was standing on the other side. He was tall and graying, as well as going bald.

"Teeny! I'm so glad to see you! Well actually, I hoped I'd never have to see you again, but I mean that in a nice way."

I smiled and hugged him back. I noticed Mama frown again at Daddy when she heard Dr. Bright's nickname for me.

When we were all settled in, Dr. Bright began speaking.

"All right, we are all here for family therapy. I have some simple rules and if you follow them, this should work smoothly. Only one person talks at a time, no one talks out of turn, and no one will call anyone names like liar, or say that whatever the other person is saying isn't true. Now, I've worked with Chrissy here for years and each one of you has been part of what she's told me, but the one she's told me most about is her father. George, would you like to speak first?"

Daddy nodded. He opened his mouth and then shut it again. "I'm afraid I don't know where to begin.

"Start at the beginning," Dr. Bright suggested.

Daddy nodded and took a deep breath. "I guess it all started with my parents. I was nearly born out of wedlock. My mother never really wanted children, least of all a little boy like me. When I got old enough, she sent me away to boarding school and never wrote. Other kids would get cheerful letters from their parents, but not me. Then, when I was in college, my mother murdered my father in cold blood. Split his head open with an axe.

"That really was a blow. I never saw my father because of school and the fact that he worked all the time. That was why I sought the spirit mediums. That's why I needed Madame Leota. And because of my mother," he paused to wipe away a tear that was falling down his cheek, "because of my mother not teaching me how to love, I did the same thing to my daughter that my mother did to me. I just didn't want to deal with her. That's why I sent her to you in the first place."

Looking emotionally drained, my father fell back onto his chair. Mama looked at Doctor Bright. "May I go next?" her voice was uncharacteristically cold.

"Of course." Dr. Bright nodded and she stood up and narrowed her eyes at my father.

"As emotionally distressing as your life is George, this isn't about you. It's about Chrissy-Lily. You abandoned our daughter to strangers. You abandoned her and you abandoned me. My brothers told me you were bad, and I didn't believe them. But now I'm starting to. You are a cruel, sadistic, manipulative, self-indulgent cad and I wish to God that I'd never laid eyes on you!"

Her voice built with every sentence, until with the last few it reached fever pitch. After Mama had finished, she turned away from the group and stalked out of the room crying.

As soon as she was gone, I felt myself rising out of my chair. I was angry. Daddy didn't deserve any of that. I left the room and came back with Mama in tow. I pushed her back in her chair and got up to speak myself.

"Now just a minute, Mama. Daddy didn't deserve that, and those who live in glass houses shouldn't cast stones."

Mama frowned at me. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You talk about him abandoning me, and you berate him for it. But what about you?"

Mama stood up. "What about me?"

I felt my eyes begin to water. "You abandoned me, too!"

Mama shook her head. "I didn't abandon anyone. I _died_!"

I felt myself beginning to cry in earnest. "The only memories I have of you as a living girl are negative ones. You would sit in your garden all hours of the day and cry your eyes out because Daddy didn't love you, or Daddy wasn't paying attention to you. And if you would have listened to me, I would have told you that I loved you, that I needed you. But you couldn't even take the time out of your day to tuck me into bed at night. At least when Daddy came to pick me up when I was six, we spent time together, took vacations. And on the Christmas that I came back from here, Daddy bought a piano, and he and Emily and I would sing Christmas carols after dinner. These are good memories. But I don't have anything like that from you, so just watch what you say."

I looked at my father and saw tears running down his cheeks.

"Alas, my love, you do me wrong, to cast me off discourteously for I have loved you well and long delighting in your company."'

All of a sudden, Mama smiled, and she began singing with him.

"Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, and who but my lady Greensleeves."

Now they were both smiling and I was confused.

"What's going on?"

Mama held out her hand to me and drew me into a hug. "I know you don't remember Chrissy-Lily, but that was what your daddy and I sung you to sleep with when you were a baby."

I looked up at her. "I had a lullabye that both of you sang to me?"

She nodded. "It's been so long that I forgot." She looked at Daddy. "I'm sorry George."

He hugged her. "I'm sorry too, Lillian."

We hugged again, and just as we were getting into it, Lettie cleared her throat. "It's nice that they're reconciled, but what about me?"

I looked at her. "Lettie, you don't really have any problems. I mean, yes your mother is a psychotic murderess, but you freed yourself from her. You're fine."

She thought a moment, then looked up at me and shook her head. "No, actually I'm not fine."

Dr. Bright looked at her. "What's your story?"

"Well," Lettie looked around the room at all of us. "My story starts the day Lillian died. That was the day Daddy revealed me to Christine."

"And when you say 'Daddy', you mean-"

"George. Christy is my half-sister." Dr. Bright nodded.

"Well, it was the sight of me that caused her to come to you in the first place. I was the evidence that her father had cheated on her mother."

Before Lettie could start her next sentence, Mama was up again.

"George, you showed Lettie to Chrissy-Lily on the day I died? How insensitive can you be?"

Dr. Bright frowned at her. "Sit down, Lillian." Mama sat.

"Anyway, after Christy got back from therapy, we were best friends. My Mama was evil and murdered a ton of people including Christy and her parents, but thankfully in my youth, I had Christy to teach me right and wrong, so I wasn't greatly influenced by her.

"When I was ten, Christy left the house and went to be with the circus. She promised to write me, but she forgot and that really hurt. Mama saw how hurt I was and convinced me that Christy didn't care about me. As the years went by, I was molded into my mother's puppet. I killed people. First, my husband, who I only married for his money. It was what Mama did, so I didn't think it was wrong. Then I killed a couple of servants who wouldn't return my affections, and with them went the family dog, Hellhound."

Daddy looked up. "Lettie, you killed Hellhound?" he got a wounded look. "It's nice to know. He was my childhood friend. When he died, it hurt." Daddy sniffled.

Lettie looked very sorry. "But then, Christy died and came back. I was still mad at her for leaving, but then she came home with a good-looking guy named Michael, and I figured someone who can attract good-looking guys can't be all that bad, so I forgave her.

"Now, Michael is gone, Daddy's sold the house to amusement park people, and my mother is trying to take over our lives again."

After she finished, Lettie sat down, and Dr. Bright cast a weary gaze at Mama.

"Lillian, you may speak now."

Mama stood up looking livid. "Did you pay any attention to Lettie either? The poor girl had a nut for a mother. And while I don't condone the circumstances under which she was born, I still think you could've paid her some attention as well."

Daddy narrowed his eyes at her. "Lily, I would be most appreciative if for one moment, you could hold your tongue. I'm sure one of the first things they taught you at finishing school is that ladies should be seen and not heard, and we've heard enough from you to last us all an eternity. Now, if it bothers you how I ran my life and my family, you can just run back to your brothers in Georgia, and we will stay here and lead full and happy existences without you."

Mama's mouth opened, but no sound came out. No one said anything. Finally, the silence was broken when Rita tapped on the door.

"Excuse me Doctor, but there's a phone call for the Gracey family from Florida. It seems like there is a line of people outside their house waiting to take a tour, but no one's there, so it's very distressing to the heads of the park."

We all looked at each other.

"Oh, my God," Daddy said, "I forgot all about that."

Dr. Bright looked curious. "What's going on?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing Doctor. We just need to go."

"Well, is everyone all right?"

We all smiled. "Yes, we're fine now." And leaving a somewhat worn-looking Dr. Bright behind us, we went home, talking the whole way about how great it was to have all the baggage off our chests.

I obviously didn't write Greensleeves.


	16. The New Happy Haunts

When we arrived home, everything was chaos. Everyone was running around pell-mell and you couldn't go anywhere in the house without bumping into somebody.

Finally, Daddy got a hold on me. "Chrissy, go around and get everyone. Tell them to go to the ballroom and I'll take it from there."

I nodded. Then, I grabbed Lettie and we both went. We had no trouble finding people, and when they saw us, this sort of calm descended over everyone.

"Okay all of you, Daddy says go to the ballroom and he will tell you what to do." Every time Lettie or I said that sentence, a sigh of relief went through everyone in the room we were in. In no time at all, the ballroom was packed and everyone was waiting for Daddy's orders. Finally, he stood on the stairs and began to speak.

"I apologize for the chaos that has occurred. I would like everyone to return to their normal jobs. I assume everyone still knows what they're doing?"

There were nods and murmurs among the spirits as the crowd began to dissipate, but almost immediately, two voices rose against the rest. One was Emily's.

"George, what should I do?"

The other was Ricky's: "Sir, I don't have a job either." The second both of them finished speaking, they looked at one another and something passed between them. Ricky crossed the room to Emily and together, they approached Daddy.

He looked at them thoughtfully. "Just a minute."

He left and looked around the mansion, then came back in a flash.

"I have the perfect job for both of you. The attic is empty, and before all this unpleasantness occurred, there was a figure in there of a bride. When the figure was first up,she was dark and mysterious with a veil coveringher face and two glowing eyes, as well as the glowing, beating heart. Then, later, it was remodeled into a repulsive green blimp. Now the figure is gone. Emily, since you're already appropriately dressed, would you mind taking over?"

She smiled. "Of course."

Then he turned to Ricky. "And I have something interesting in mind for you, young man. The role you will be playing is something of a legend among fans of this attraction. When it first opened, the men who dreamed up this ride thought that the bride should have a groom. And for a little while, she did. He was called the Hatbox Ghost and he was very ominous-looking. With every beat of the bride's heart, his head would disappear into the hatbox or reappear onto his body."

"What happened to him?"

"Well, since there was no ghost among us fit enough for him, they had to make a representation with lots of special effects, but unfortunately, the Hatbox effect took too long to stage and the lighting wasn't dark enough. But now that you're here, you can do it, right?"

Ricky nodded enthusiastically and Daddy smiled. "Off to the attic with both of you."

They went and Emily motioned for me to come with them. When we arrived, the attic was blissfully silent. I looked in all the nooks and crannies and saw that the pop-up figures were only in dormant state. The second I touched one, they came back to life, but this time they screamed "I do" with every resurface.

Emily and Ricky had retreated to a far-off corner of the attic and were staring at each other but not saying anything. I'd fix that.

I stepped behind Ricky. "Do the two of you want to introduce yourselves to each other or what?"

And with that, they finally spoke. Ricky went first.

"I'm Victor Eric Malrooney, but everyone calls me Ricky." He kissed Emily's hand and she giggled.

"I'm Emily, and I think the name Victor suits you just fine."

"How'd you get here," Ricky asked. "I mean, how did you die? If it's not too personal."

Emily shook her head. "No, it's all right. I was suffocated by being locked in that sea trunk over there." She pointed. "Christine found my body. What about you?"

He smiled. "Car accident. Dark night, slide on some ice, car erupted into flames. But it was mainly because of _somebody_ freaking the stuff out of me with her picture-of-Dorian-Gray routine." He smiled at me mischievously, and I grinned back. Then they both looked at me and said at the same time, "thanks Chrissy."

I nodded. "You're welcome. Before I go, we need to get the two of you ready. Emily, put your veil over your face." She did so and it was completely shielded. I turned off the attic lights and suddenly her eyes were glowing. And then I heard it. The slow, steady thumping of a heart. I looked at Emily and saw the red glow in her chest. asI tried to walk toward her, she screamed and moaned. It was brilliant. I turned the lights back on.

"Wow, that was quick. Maybe the room gave you the powers of the Bride."

Emily looked as stunned as me. "I guess so." Next, I turned my attention to Ricky. I went to Emily's trunk and opened it and instead of a body, I found the clothes of a groom. A black suit and cape, a top hat and a cane. And of course, his hatbox. The uniform made me a little nervous. It looked a lot like what Melanie's Phantom wore.

I shook off my nervousness and gave Ricky his clothes. He dressed quickly and when he came back, they fit him so well, they seemed made for him. I gave him his hatbox and told him to go stand by the attic's exit. He did so and I turned off the lights again. Then I promptly screamed.

The change that came over Ricky was amazing. His face was now a leering white skull with sunken eyes and a wide, evil grin. He was hunched over and as I watched, his head disappeared from his body and into the hatbox. It was a wonderfully creepy effect. I turned on the lights and applauded.

"Great job, you two, you'll scare everybody. Keep practicing and I'll go see to things elsewhere."

I headed down the attic steps and into the ballroom where Daddy, Antoine and Etienne were in conversation. Etienne was speaking.

"Sir, I just don't think we can do our jobs anymore. Heaven made us truly remember what good friends we are. That and Christine's counseling. And sir, friends just don't shoot at their friends."

Daddy turned around to look at me. I smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry, Daddy. I broke it, but I can fix it. Frank and Michael are still around here somewhere. All we need to do is get their pictures from Greeling Terrace and replace them in the ballroom."

Daddy nodded. "That seems like a good idea." I left the house and went into the backyard where, of course, Michael and Frank were still at it.

"Hey, could you two hold for a second?"

Michael's bullet went through Frank and then he put his gun down.

"Sure Peach, what's going on?"

"Well, Antoine and Etienne just quit their jobs and I was wondering if you and Frank could take over for them."

Michael nodded, but Frank spat on the ground. "Not a chance. I'm not going to be put on exhibit at some freak show."

I smiled at him. "Too bad Frank, you don't have any choice. Welcome to hell."

After that, the two of them left to get their pictures, which soon replaced Antoine's and Etienne's in the ballroom.

As I stood by the window watching for people, Daddy came up behind me.

"Chrissy, what about you?"

I looked at him curiously. "What about me what?"

Daddy smiled. "What job do you want?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

Just then, Lettie came in reading a book of ghost stories. She looked at Daddy, then at me.

"Are you still trying to think of a job for Christy?"

Daddy sighed and nodded.

Lettie turned to a page in her book and smiled. "I know, she can be a Hitchhiking Ghost. She does have the experience after all."

Daddy shook his head. "Ezra, Gus and Phineas do that, remember?"

Lettie snorted slightly and held the book out to Daddy.

"Don't you ever read?"

Daddy took hold of the book and began reading. I looked over his shoulder. The story was, of course, The Phantom Hitchhiker.

After he finished reading, he looked at Lettie again.

"See, Daddy, the ghost in those stories is always a girl. We need some tradition here."

Daddy looked horrified. "But we can't throw out the Hitchhiking Ghosts! They're institutions!"

Lettie rolled her eyes. "We wouldn't be throwing them out, we'd just be adding in Christy on certain days."

"Which days?" I asked her.

She thought a moment. "Your birthday, Halloween. Days like that."

And what will I do when I'm not hitchhiking?"

"Remember when I quit and Daddy was talking about Southern charm? Well, I was thinking that you could be with me. You know, lighten up that part of the ride."

I mock frowned. With what? 'y'all come back now, y'hear?'"

She laughed a little. "Yeah!"

I smiled. "I can do that."

Later, she and I were talking. I had some things to ask her.

"Who's taken over the medium job now?"

She smiled. "Aunt Leota. She didn't leave with the Everses."

"And where are your mother and Scott?"

All of a sudden, Lettie burst into laughter. "Come see."

She took my hand and led me out behind the mansion where a merchandise cart sat with two very familiar people in Mickey hats running it.

I laughed so hard I almost fell over. "You are so mean!"

"No, I'm not," she said reasonably. "I did give them their lives back, and _somebody _has to sell ride merchandise."


	17. An Uncertain Proposal

After that, things weren't bad. A normal pattern was established for everyone in the mansion, and I even grew fond of my jobs.

It was fun working with Lettie. She and I worked out marvelous things to do during break times and from the first time I saw her work, I had to admit that she was pretty creepy and it was no wonder she wanted me around to help lighten up her part of the act.

My plans as a hitchhiking ghost were changed. I was never a fourth ghost with Ezra, Gus and Phinneas. Instead, on the days that I did hitchhike, I did it on my own. For guys, I was my normal pretty self, but for girls, I aged. And for some reason, after I took that part of my job, park attendance by attractive young men reached a peak on the days I worked. I thought it was a coincidence, but Lettie said it was because all the boys wanted to feel like heroes picking up a pretty damsel in distress. I didn't believe her until I heard a group of boys talking in the foyer one day, and they kept saying stuff like "I can't wait to pick up that babe I hear is supposed to be at the end of the ride."

I went and asked Lettie about it and she got this know-it-all look on her face.

"I told you, Chrissy. All those guys are coming because of _you_. They think you're pretty and they want to pick you up."

I sighed. "I have Michael. I don't know what I'd want with any other boy."

Lettie looked at me, concerned. "Have you ever thought of any other boy besides Michael? Not that it's any of my business of course, but did you have any relationships when you were alive?"

I had to stop and think for a minute. While I was thinking, Mama came into the room where Lettie and I were to ask me if I'd seen her tennis racket because she and Daddy were going to play a few games. I told her I hadn't and she left to look elsewhere. After she left, it hit me.

"Well Lettie, I did have one relationship before I died, and it died with me to tell you the truth. It was during my circus days. The circus I went to was the same one Mama was at. Many people who worked there were the children and grandchildren of previous performers. I fell in love with the lion tamer, who happened to be the son of the man Mama fell in love with."

"How long were you together?" she asked me.

"Four years." I answered. "On the day I died, he proposed to me, but I died before I could officially give him my answer. I have to admit, although I love Michael, our relationship is far from perfect. I mean, we've never kissed at all, and he treats me like I'm a little kid. It's like he's my father or something. And thinking of Will, that was my first boyfriend's name, makes me so happy. We kissed and everything."

Lettie put a hand on my shoulder. "If you're so upset with Michael, why don't you just break it off with him and save yourself a lot of misery?"

I looked at her hand on my shoulder, then I looked at her, horrified.

"I can't do that! Do you realize how much that would hurt him?"

She shrugged. "Fine, but it sounds to me like you want something you'll never get unless you break up with Michael and find somebody else."

And with one last look at me, she left the room and shut the door behind her, leaving me with some very complicated thoughts.

Find somebody else? But who? The only guy around here that was even remotely suitable was Scott, and he'd tried to get rid of me twice! But then I remembered something: the time when I was so miserable, and he'd held on to me, and at least pretended to be decent. I remembered how that felt, and it had felt good. Before I knew what I was doing, I was running out the door, and through the hallways until I was out the door and the merchandise cart was in sight.

When I got there, Leona ignored me, but Scott looked up.

"What are you doing here? Come to taunt the working class?"

I couldn't look him in the eye, so I played with my skirt instead.

"No, actually, I kind of wanted to talk to you. Will you come to the house with me?"

At that point, I did look at him. He looked shocked.

"What do you want to talk about?"

I couldn't find the right words. "It's kind of private. Library, Scott? Please?"

At my desperate tone, he actually got up and walked over to me.

"Lead the way," he said simply.

We walked away from Leona and into the library. Then, we stared at each other and surprisingly he started to speak first, taking my hand. But before either of us could say anything, Michael burst into the room, casting Scott an angry glance.

"Sir, step away from her at once!" Then, he looked at me. "Peach, get in the car. We're taking a little trip to Georgia. You, me, and the rest of the _family_." He placed heavy emphasis on the last word. Then, when he saw that Scott was far enough away from me, he ordered me to go. Not wanting to make him angrier, I left, trying to signal to Scott with my eyes, but it was no use.

When I got to the car, Mama and Daddy were already there, waiting for me.

"Mama, do you have any idea why Michael wants to go back to Georgia?" I asked her as I sat down.

She shrugged. "Michael didn't say, but I'm assuming it's because he wants to _ask_ you something." She smiled.

As I got her meaning, my stomach began to roil around inside me. Was he really planning to ask me to marry him? I couldn't honestly say yes! I didn't love him anymore, I loved Scott! This was a bad situation.

I had a smile for Michael as he got into the driver's seat beside me, but inside I was a wreck. All the way to Tara, I wrestled with my conscience, and the possibility that that wasn't really what he was taking me home for.

But then he told me to close my eyes as I got out of the car. Then, he led me to the swing, and I felt something cold and circular being slipped onto my finger. Then Michael told me to open my eyes. I did, and I saw that standing around us were not only my parents, but Jack and Melanie, Melanie's parents, Jack and Michael's parents, my uncles, and all my close relatives in Georgia.

Then I looked down at my finger and saw the most beautiful piece of jewelry I'd ever seen in my life. I couldn't speak.

And that's when Michael got down on one knee and said, "Christine Lillian O'Malley Gracey, will you marry me?"

I looked around me. Everyone was smiling encouragingly, and Daddy and Mama both looked like they were about to cry. Then, I looked back and Michael, and feeling incredibly helpless, said "yes, Michael Allen-Park, I will marry you."

Then he picked me up and kissed me, and everybody cheered.


End file.
